


Vegetable Bowling

by belljar



Category: All For the Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: M/M, this is like....the worst au.....in history......who the fuck am i.....
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-27 16:38:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6292075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belljar/pseuds/belljar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean Moreau works at Walmart. Jeremy Knox comes in at 2:30 a Saturday night to buy 6 lettuce heads and 10 turnips. It's a long story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is unbetaed and i'm gonna be straight up honest w/ yall and say that i'm not sure what this is......have fun i guess ?

‘We should play bowling with turnips as cones and lettuce heads as balls,’ Alvarez says.

It’s 2 AM on a Saturday night and they’re all hanging out in the common room, half of them with a beer in hand.

‘What the _fuck_ ,’ Laila says, tilting her head and looking at her girlfriend.

Alvarez’ mouth twists into a smile and she starts laughing, throwing her head back. She’s on team has-a-beer-in-hand. ‘We should,’ she repeats slowly. ‘Play bowling – with turnips – as cones – and lettuce heads – as balls.’ She smiles widely again, blinking slowly. She looks to her right where Jeremy is propped; he’s laughing too now, quietly—more giggling than really laughing.

‘We _should_ ,’ he gasps, slinging his arm around Alvarez and squeezing. He’s not team has-a-beer-in-hand.

‘What the _fuck_ ,’ Laila repeats, looking around the crowd. ‘Are y’all hearing this? How’d you even think of this…?’

‘Dunno…’ Alvarez muses. ‘I’m a genius.’

‘You’re drunk,’ Laila says, as another team member exclaims how they think it’s a sick idea.

‘Yeah,’ Alvarez says, leaning over to plant a sloppy kiss on Laila’s cheek. ‘Who’s going to go shopping?’

‘I’ll go,’ Jeremy says. ‘I’m sober. Shit, this’ll be amazing.’

Laila looks up at him and rolls her eyes. ‘I’m taking pics.’

‘Good,’ Alvarez says. ‘Everyone prepare to get your ass kicked.’

Jeremy jumps up and goes to get his car keys. In his room, he pulls a sweater over his head and then turns back outside. ‘OK,’ he says, looking around. ‘Do we need anything else?’

A couple of people shake their heads and others shrug.

‘I’m taking that as a no,’ Jeremy says. ‘I’ll be back soon!’

  
The drive to Walmart is only five minutes, and after parking his car Jeremy gets a shopping cart. He pushes it in front of him into the store and heads to the vegetables department.

He can’t find the turnips at first so he picks up a bunch of carrots, wondering if they’ll do. He figures they probably won’t; they won’t be able to stand. He runs his right hand through his hair and taps his finger to his temple.

He doesn’t know how many lettuce heads will be necessary so he picks up six and agrees that’s got to be enough. Finally, he spots the turnips and he pirouettes around in victory before picking up a bunch and putting them in the cart.

He looks around himself before pushing it to the checkout.

He puts everything on the conveyour belt and then looks up at the cashier, flashing his best smile. He’s met with a silent gaze and a raised eyebrow.

Jeremy notices that the cashier is handsome. He’s got dark eyes and darker hair and there’s a scar on his left cheekbone. And he is watching Jeremy with something that looks like curiosity – a _what the fuck_ undertone, a raised eyebrow.

He—Jeremy notices the nametag reads _Jean_ and then he notices that that’s a nice name. Anyway, _Jean_ doesn’t say anything as he beeps in the groceries and Jeremy scrambles to get out his wallet.

‘It’s a long story,’ Jeremy says, because he’s never been good at controlling his mouth. He feels a faint blush rise in his cheeks and grins widely at the man in front of him.

‘Not the weirdest I’ve seen,’ he answers in a low voice with a hint of an accent. Jeremy is _sure_ he sees a smile tugging at the edge of his mouth. He could be imagining it. He suddenly gets the odd urge to give _Jean_ his number because he wants to hear all the stories about weirder things—and everything else he’d tell him.

 _Wow_ , he thinks. _Chill the fuck out, Jeremy_. It’s probably just the—well, since he hasn’t had any alcohol it can’t be that. It’s probably just the fact that he’s in a grocery store half past 2 in the morning. It’s just that. Tomorrow he won’t even remember the name of this guy.

He smiles again and gets out his credit card to pay. ‘I’m Jeremy,’ he says, putting the card back in his wallet and going to put the vegetables in the plastic bag.

‘Hello Jeremy,’ the cashier says slowly. Yep, definitely an accent. French maybe?

‘Hi _Jean_ ,’ he says and gestures to the nametag when the man looks confused at him.

‘Oh,’ he answers. ‘Right.’

‘Goodnight Jean,’ Jeremy says. ‘It was nice.’

‘Goodnight Jeremy,’ he replies and now he’s definitely not imagining the faint smile on the other’s face. ‘Have fun with your turnips.’

‘Oh, I will,’ Jeremy says. ‘Thank you. Sleep well.’

  
‘I’m fucking dying,’ Alvarez stutters out as she passes Jeremy in the hallway the next morning. ‘I wasn’t even that drunk last night…’

‘It was fun though,’ Jeremy says, remembering last night and the catastrophic game of vegetable bowling. Then he remembers Jean from Walmart. Jean from Walmart who was ridiculously good-looking and had a very, _very_ nice voice. _Shit_ , he thinks. He was supposed to not even remember his name and now he’s thinking about—right.

‘I’m going to die,’ Alvarez repeats, suddenly speeding up on her way to the toilets. ‘I’ll see you later,’ she screams, then whines low about how she shouldn’t have screamed because _loud noises_ …

Jeremy smiles at her back and turns around to go make tea.

 

* * *

 

Next weekend, Jeremy is back in Walmart. In the shopping cart are 12 carpet rolls and some iron wool. He grabs a chocolate bar on his way to the checkout and then his heart stops beating for a second. Oh _fuck_.

‘Hey again, Jean,’ he grins, beginning to put the things on the belt. He bites his lip in an attempt to control his mouth for _once_ in his life. He’s not drunk this time either but blaming it on the time seems pointless, considering how he’s been thinking about Jean a lot since last weekend. He thinks that’s kind of pathetic, really, which is why he hasn’t told anyone.

‘Jeremy,’ Jean says, nodding. This time Jeremy has no doubt that’s a smile. ‘I’m assuming it’s a long story,’ he says, beeping in the wool.

Jeremy looks down at the belt, then up at Jean. ‘You’re assuming right,’ he says. He unwraps the chocolate bar and takes a bite, smiling lopsidedly at the man in front of him. ‘So how are you doing?’

Jean looks up and looks confused at Jeremy for a second. ‘I’m at work,’ he says then. ‘It’s 4 AM.’

‘Nice,’ Jeremy says, putting everything back in the cart. ‘Well, good night, Jean,’ he says and salutes. Have a nice morning.’

‘You too, Jeremy,’ Jean says, rolling his eyes slightly.

 

* * *

 

‘Man, we really can’t keep meeting this way,’ Jeremy grins, putting the fish-printed pyjamas on the belt and winking at Jean in front of him. Jean rolls his eyes and Jeremy lifts up the wicker basket.

‘Long story?’ he asks.

‘Not really,’ Jeremy says. ‘It’s one of my teammates’ birthday tomorrow.’

‘And you’re giving them—’ Jean says, eyeing up the basket and the pyjamas, then looking back at Jeremy. ‘Your teammate is a size 12 year old?’

‘Fuck,’ Jeremy says. ‘Wait here, I’ll be right back.’ He spins around and sprints back down to the clothing department to get the right size. He can’t believe he forgot to check the size. Was he really that busy thinking about what to say _in case_ it was Jean at the checkout? The answer is, naturally, _yes_ , and yet he couldn’t come up with something better than what sounded like a line straight from a bad porn. “Man, we really can’t keep meeting this way.” Who even says that in real life? Nobody, that’s who. Except for Jeremy Knox, apparently. When he gets back home he’s going to google how to control your mouth. There’s got to be a WikiHow or something.

He grabs a pyjamas in the right size; this one with Minion print. God, Alvarez is going to start a riot over this.

He sprints back to the checkout where Jean is still standing, looking amused now.

‘No, she’s not a size 12 year old,’ Jeremy says. ‘We’re the same age.’

Jean smiles up at him and something weird happens in Jeremy’s chest. Oh God, this isn’t happening. Who develops a crush on the checkout cashier at _Walmart_? That’s not something that happens in real life. And yet, here he is. When he gets home, he’s also going to google how to stop your life from being a practical joke.

‘Shit, sorry, what’d you say?’ he asks, blinking at Jean.

‘That’ll be 20 bucks,’ he repeats and the amused tone in his voice doesn’t escape Jeremy.

‘Sorry, I was–’ You were _what_ , Jeremy? he asks himself. You were so caught up in thinking about how handsome Jean was that you didn’t hear him the first time? You were wondering how weird slash bad it’d be on a scale from 0 to 10 to ask him for his number?

‘It’s OK,’ Jean says. ‘It’s late.’

‘Yes,’ Jeremy says. ‘My New Years resolution this year was to always get birthday presents in time, you know? Fucking failing so far…’

‘Well, I’m sure your teammate will be—happy with this.’ He smiles at Jeremy and Jeremy starts laughing. ‘She’s going to fucking kill me is what,’ he says. ‘A couple months ago she spent two hours and seventeen minutes listing the reasons Minions are terrible and why she wants to fight them. Then she fell asleep on her girlfriend’s shoulder.’

Jean grins at him and runs a hand through his hair. Jeremy really wants to ask him for his number so he bites his lip to stop himself from embarrassing himself that way. ‘It’s been nice,’ he says. ‘Jean.’

‘It has,’ Jean responds. ‘Jeremy.’

A moment passes where Jeremy thinks of what a nice shade Jean’s eyes are.

‘Good luck with the birthday,’ Jean says then and Jeremy is pretty sure that’s a smile. Jeremy flashes his best and brightest winning smile in return. ‘Good luck with the rest of your shift,’ he says.

‘Thank you,’ Jean says.

 

* * *

 

‘What are you doing here?’ is the first thing Jeremy says in a confused voice when he’s met by Jean’s eyes two days later, a little after noon.

‘Jeremy,’ Jean replies. ‘I work here.’

‘Yeah, I mean I know,’ Jeremy backtracks, flushing red. ‘I just only thought you worked nights…’

‘Sorry to disappoint,’ Jean says, beginning to beep in the groceries. _Normal_ groceries – on the belt is milk, and cereal, and bread. No long stories.

‘You’re not,’ Jeremy says because he _did_ google how to control your mouth but there weren’t any helpful results. ‘It’s nice to see you.’

Jean looks up at him and smiles. ‘It’s nice to see you too, Jeremy.’

‘Do you want to go out?’ Jeremy says then because he’s nothing if not an idiot. Actually, that’s not even true. Jeremy is _good_ at small talk and he’s _great_ at flirting. He knows how to talk with people, how to make people feel _good_. He _loves_ talking with people and he never gets tongue-tied and all caught up in bursting out embarrassing things. He’s keenly aware of the fact that there are people standing in line behind him. This is all going fucking terrible…

‘My shift ends at four,’ Jean says. ‘You can tell me all the long stories.’

‘I’ll tell you all the long stories,’ Jeremy starts babbling, relief and happiness flooding over him. He’s grinning widely up at Jean. Jean who just said yes to going out with him. Fuck. ‘You’ll tell me the weirdest things you’ve seen. I need to know what I’m competing against.’

Jean flashes a smile at him, ‘I will.’

‘Nice,’ Jeremy says, then looks to his right where the next two people are staring at him. ‘Fuck, I’m so sorry. Moving on, yes, great. Sorry. Fuck.’ He scrambles to get his things and smiles a last time at Jean. ‘I’ll see you later.’

‘I will see you later.’

  
Outside the shop, Jeremy finds a note with a couple of digits taped on the bread.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i blame yall and esp sea, dawn, & laurel goodbye this is.....idfk what it is also the pov kinda changed bc ??? what's continuity i've never heard of it bye,,

‘So, what’s the story?’ Jean asks later, when they’re sitting beside each other on a park bench, each with a cup of coffee. Jean found Jeremy’s order ridiculous and over the top – he didn’t think anyone actually _got_ grande, iced, sugar free, vanilla lattes with soy milk in real life.

‘What story?’ Jeremy grins, lips wrapped around the straw.

‘The _turnips_ ,’ Jean says and rolls his eyes. ‘Which you bought at 2:30 in the AM.’

‘OK,’ Jeremy laughs, putting his drink down beside him because he needs his hands free to gesticulate. ‘So, half the team was kind of drunk and the rest of us wasn’t, when Alvarez suggested we play vegetable bowling with turnips as cones and lettuce heads as balls.’ He grins when he sees the look on Jean’s face. ‘We didn’t have any, so I went to get it. And there you were.’

‘That’s–’ Jean begins, closing his mouth again. ‘Fucking weird.’

Jeremy is smiling brightly at him as he picks his cup up again and takes another slurp.

‘How’d it go, then?’ Jean says, smiling back. ‘The bowling.’

Jeremy’s face, impossibly, breaks into a wider smile. ‘Excellent,’ he says. ‘Or, I mean, well. Kind of completely failed and there was just lettuce everywhere, but it was _fun_. Here, wait,’ he says, getting his phone out and opening up the camera roll. ‘Here’s a picture of Alvarez kissing a lettuce head for good luck. She called it “baby” about eight times.’

Jean chokes when he sees the photograph, then starts laughing. ‘Fucking hell,’ he says, putting the cup to his lips again, still smiling.

‘I know,’ Jeremy says. ‘Alvarez is good people. They all are, the whole team. I love them. Anyway,’ he adds, looking back up at Jean. ‘You promised me a story. What’s the weirdest you’ve ever seen?’

‘A dog playing basketball while wearing frilly socks,’ Jean says without missing a beat.

Jeremy’s mouth drops open and he stares at him for a second, trying to figure out if he misheard him. He closes his mouth, then opens it again and starts laughing. ‘I can’t tell whether you’re joking or not,’ he says between laughs and Jean smirks at him.

‘Are you joking?’ Jeremy says and Jean shrugs, takes another sip of his coffee.

‘You’re not?’ Jeremy says. ‘Fuck.’ He starts laughing again, wiping away tears. ‘Did you take pictures?’

‘We’re not allowed to photograph customers,’ Jean says. ‘Violation of privacy.’

‘Oh, sad,’ Jeremy says. ‘Are you allowed to let customers photograph you? I mean, you’re _really_ good-looking, you know.’ He closes his mouth, realising he’s babbling. Jean is looking at him with wide eyes, mouth slightly open.

‘And I’m really bad at keeping my mouth shut…’ Jeremy says, giving him another smile.

‘I don’t think there are any rules against that,’ Jean says.

‘What about kissing?’ Jeremy says. ‘Are there rules about that?’

‘I’m pretty sure we’re not allowed to initiate kisses with the customers,’ Jean states solemnly, nodding slowly. ‘Nothing about the other way, though.’

‘Oh,’ Jeremy says softly, inching closer. ‘So, hypothetically speaking, if you were a customer, and you’d been in a bunch of times at odd hours buying odd things, and the cashier was, like, _wickedly_ handsome, he would, theoretically, be OK with you kissing him?’ He bites his lip to keep from smiling too widely.

‘Hypothetically speaking,’ Jean says slowly. ‘Yeah…’

Jeremy’s face breaks into a smile and he leans in slowly, closing the gap between them. When they’re an inch apart, he breathes out softly and asks, ‘you sure this is all right?’

Jean doesn’t say anything but instead tilts his head slightly, closes his eyes, and softly presses his mouth to Jeremy’s.

The kiss is soft, and short; Jean thinks of it as _sweet_. Jean thinks, then, everything he knows about Jeremy so far can be summed up as _sweet_. He pulls away and blinks, then smiles a quiet kind of smile. ‘Yeah,’ he whispers. ‘I’m sure this is all right.’

Jeremy grins at him. ‘We should try again, then. You know, just to check if it’s still all right.’

‘You raise a compelling argument,’ Jean smiles, leaning in again.

Jeremy is the one to initiate _more_ – opens his mouth slightly and prods out his tongue, humming quietly when Jean follows his lead. The kiss deepens and Jean thinks he could get used to this. Which might be weird, since he doesn’t even _know_ Jeremy – he just knows he has odd shopping habits and loves his teammates. And that he’s ridiculously attractive, a great kisser, and _radiates_ warmth and sunshine. So, all in all, not a bad start.

He pulls away again when he needs to breathe and Jeremy is grinning wide at him, eyes _beaming_. ‘That was really nice,’ he says and Jean’s face breaks into a smile as well. ‘That was really nice,’ he agrees.

Jeremy takes his hand and squeezes it, leaning back against the bench, still smiling. He looks up at the sky, but Jean keeps looking at him.

He doesn’t know what this is, exactly, or if this is going to be the last time they even see each other, but for now—for now, it’s nice. For now, he’d like to listen to all of Jeremy’s weird stories and tell him all his own and go for coffee and kiss some more. For now, he thinks it _could_ be something.


End file.
